


Weary Heads to Rest

by MoonFire1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s15e20 Carry On, F/M, Gen, I reject your canon and substitute my own, M/M, Plot What Plot, everyone deserved so much better, the finale sucked hardcore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonFire1/pseuds/MoonFire1
Summary: Heaven isn't what anyone is expecting.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	1. Chuck

**Author's Note:**

> I am bitter.

The man known as Chuck Shurley had ecked out a quiet form of existence after the Winchesters (and Jack) had drained him of his powers – his _Godliness_ – and left him behind.

He never heard from them again. Truthfully, he never heard from anyone he might have thought of – and there were many he was determined to never allow to cross his mind again.

It was a pity his dreams refused to cooperate on that end. The betrayal seared onto Michael’s face as he mercilessly ended his eldest son’s life played out time and again, but that was only one such nightmare. What honestly could he have expected, having spent true eternities running and ruining others’ lives for his own entertainment?

It was honestly fitting, in a way. His end came to him not in the form of his furious sister, of vengeful brothers insisting on freedom, but through an untreated cut on his leg, unnoticed due to neuropathy that had set in as part of age.

~

The light in heaven was softer than he had remembered. Everything had a soft golden glow. The air was clean, birds chirped cheerfully around him, and Chuck spun slowly in a circle, trying to get his bearings.

Heaven was nothing like he had designed – and abandoned. Much as it pained him to admit it, Jack clearly had things well in hand. The walls had literally been torn down. He could see and hear people freely moving about, laughter in the air, not a hint of sorrow to be found.

“Catch.”

He stuck up a hand reflexively, fingers tightening around the tossed bottle.

He blinked. Sam Winchester jerked his head toward the bar at his shoulder. Dean Winchester didn’t bother to offer a smile but gave a slight salute with his own beer. 

He saw no trace of anger, bitter resentment, or vengeance on their faces. He saw -- acceptance? Not friendship, he certainly didn't deserve that. But acceptance gave him a place to start.

Chuck Shurley had never known what his ending would be, but he had to admit that having an eternal chance for new beginnings beat out anything else he had ever envisioned.

He crossed the dirt road and dared to clink his beer against Dean's. Only then did the other man smile. 

“Just so you know, a lot of people will be lining up to punch you in the face.”

Chuck paused minutely before he crossed the threshold of the Roadhouse.

“I probably deserve it.”

Sam's laughter was quiet and beautiful, much like his and Dean's souls always had been.

The Winchesters remained his favorites for very good reasons.


	2. Castiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Superhell? I don't know her.

Time did not exist in the Empty.

The being known as Castiel wasn’t meant to continue existing either.

A firm hand gripped Castiel’s shoulder, much like he had once gripped a tortured Winchester soul, and pulled _hard_ \---

\---

“The Entity will be furious.”

“It just needs a nap.” Jack had never sounded so level headed yet unconcerned before. His hands moved swiftly over Castiel’s essence, reforming him, healing him not only of the horrors the Empty had demanded of him, but of eons of torture from angels and demons alike.

“Why did you save me?”

“For the same reason why you let the Empty take you.” Jack hugged him firmly. “Want to help me fix heaven?”

\---

“I love this song,” Dean chuckled to himself, starting Baby up for what would be a long drive. He had no where to be and nothing but eternity on his hands, at least until Sam joined him at the end of his life.

“It is a good song.”

Dean started, smacking his head against the roof of his car. Reflexively, he rubbed the spot of impact before his indignant yell caught in his throat.

A hard swallow and a small smile greeted him. “Hello, Dean.”

“CAS.”

\---

“You’ve been checking upon Sam?”

“As much as Jack allows. I’m not allowed to interfere – with anything.”

“Is he happy?”

“As happy as he can be.” A soft smile crossed the seraph’s face. “He named his son after you.”

“Oh damn.” Dean scrubbed hard at his eyes. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

\---

He and Castiel left John and Mary’s house, laughter following them out the door.

“Hey Cas.” Dean paused before opening the driver’s side door. “I’m – I just want you to know I’m so sor—”

“Don’t, Dean.” The words were soft. “You owed me nothing. I owed you the truth.”

“Let me finish my fucking sentence.” Dean cleared his throat. “Your timing really sucked, you know that? You, you sprung that on me and died the next minute – and I didn’t even get to kiss you.”

Castiel’s eyes widened – and he smiled again. “What stops you now?”

Dean slowly walked around Baby’s front hood. “The fact that my parents are staring out the window at us right now –”


	3. Adam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sundays are for barbecues.

Sundays were for family barbeques. John was forbidden to go near the coals on general principles; Mary was forbidden to do cooking more involved than making potato salad, and the brothers were forbidden from pointless squabbles while grilling the meat.

Well, in theory the squabbles were forbidden, but why give up established tradition?

“Bitch!”

“Jerk!”

“ _ **BOYS!**_ ”

“Sorry, Mom.”

“Sorry, Mary.”

Adam ducked his head sheepishly while his older brothers simply grinned at each other. At that moment, Castiel and Michael both appeared with the muted wisp of feathers. Castiel immediately glued himself to Dean’s side while Michael peered over Adam’s shoulder at the dish he was creating.

Dean and Michael would probably never be friends, and Adam couldn't blame his brother for his reticence. He was glad they had moved past the 'kill on sight' phase of their association. 

“What is that supposed to be?” Adam would give his angel credit where credit was due – at least he was *trying* to sound diplomatically interested.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve figured that out.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Adam saw Eileen saunter into the back yard, Sam immediately picking her up with a whirl and a joyful laugh. She swatted at his shoulders before consenting to a deep kiss before her feet met the ground again.

All of this should have felt very strange. Angels, humans, hunters, civilians. All who had been at odds through contrived and natural means, depending on the whims of the most deranged writer of all. It should have felt so strange, so foreign, and yet it **didn't**.

There was absolutely **no** tension. No undercurrents to make him wary, no need to keep turning his head, trying to see what lurked in the nonexistent shadows. He wouldn't have noticed the shadows in the first place before his brothers first came into his life and death so many years ago. 

Michael brushed a light kiss against Adam’s temple. The last dregs of uneasiness that had remained vanished.

It was Sunday afternoon – a perfect afternoon, really. Golden rays of sunlight broke through the trees; the air was warm without being stifling, and a good meal would be at hand – just as soon as he figured out what he was trying to make.

"Make a pie, would you?"

Michael blinked at him. "I can conjure one with a thought."

"I know." Adam lightly bumped a shoulder against the angel's. "Make one anyway - I trust you."

Adam watched Michael stalk purposefully into John and Mary's house, resolute to completing his mission.

The sight of flour flying through the air as the oldest of all known angels tried to follow a recipe card would be worth it.

It might even put a smile on his oldest brother's face. 


End file.
